


Sauntering Vaguely Downwards

by Owenjones



Series: Good Omens One Shots [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ancient Rome, Angst, Drunken Confessions, Gen, One Shot, Petronius' Oysters, The Fall (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owenjones/pseuds/Owenjones
Summary: Between when they chatted at Jesus' crucifixion and when they argued in knight's armor, Crowley and Aziraphale had a chance meeting at a hole-in-the-wall bar in Rome. There, they debated theology drunk for the first time.“I mean, think about it. If She knows everything, then She must have known we were going to rebel the second She made us.”“Best not to speculate,” Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “As I have told you so many times now, Her plans are ineffaf- Ineffabab-”“Ineffable?”“Yes,” said Aziraphale before finishing off his glass and pouring another, “Dear Lord, how much have I drunk?”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1453525
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Sauntering Vaguely Downwards

Aziraphale rested his chin in his hand as he played a little board game by himself in a bar. The oysters had been lovely. So had the alcohol. Rome was a fun city to spend time in, he supposed, but it did make him feel rather lonely. He was, so far as he knew, the only celestial being within a thousand kilos. 

There were so many humans around - the city was chock full of them - and yet he wasn’t allowed to form any connections with them outside of his necessary duties. The one he had spent the most time with recently was Nero, who was quite a rambunctious little child. Aziraphale didn’t like children at the best of times, but Nero quickly took to his suggestion to pick up the fiddle. And thus, his youthful energy was channeled into something productive: a success for heaven. He would have to wrap up his paperwork later that night, though he would no doubt stop for a bite before all that. 

Rome was curious though. More decadent than Sodom had been, but somehow allowed to flourish in all its strange and wonderful glory. All the false Gods and gruesome traditions seemed like they might have been the fault of The Opposition, though he hadn’t had a whiff of that particular evil scent for nearly thirty years… 

“I’ll have whatever’s drinkable-” Aziraphale heard from the bar. That voice - it couldn’t be Crawly.

His head shot up and he saw - Good Lord! What was he wearing? No matter, Aziraphale walked over to greet him.

“Crawly-” Wait right, he changed his name - “I mean Crowley! What are you doing here?”

The serpent had a pair of spectacles to conceal his otherworldly eyes but made no attempts to hide his glare from Aziraphale.

“Nipped in for a quick temptation,” he said. An awkward silence followed: a reminder at their true natures, no matter how much they each liked to hide it on a day-to-day basis.

Lacking anything else to say, Aziraphale asked, “Still a demon, then?”

Crowley sneered at him, “Still a demon? What kind of a question is that? What else am I gonna be, an aardvark?”

That made him laugh. Of course that was a ridiculous thing to say. Crowley didn’t seem amused, however.

“I’m going to visit Petronius’ restaurant later. I hear he does remarkable things to oysters.”

Crowley’s gaze focused into his cup, “I’ve never eaten an oyster.”

“Oh, well!” Aziraphale said, only because he was quite drunk at the time, “Allow me to tempt you…Wait, that’s your job, isn’t it?” 

That made Crowley smile. 

They walked off to the restaurant that Aziraphale had spoken so fondly of, and got themselves a table. 

Crowley tried to conceal the disgusted look on his face as the tray of oysters was placed in front of him. He leaned back in the chair away from the… food? It certainly didn’t look edible, rather it looked more like rocks. Were oysters a kind of rock? He thought they were supposed to be fish. He peeked over his sunglasses at Aziraphale who was licking his lips in anticipation. 

“After you,” Crowley held out a hand. 

“No, I couldn’t possibly,” Aziraphale said, “Go ahead. Have the first one.”

Blessed angels and their blessed politeness. How to go about this? He knew what eating was, of course, that’s what his first job was all about. But, he had never partaken in it before. The things on the plate did not look like something that he felt the need to stick in his mouth, and he wondered if perhaps Aziraphale was playing a trick on him. No, he was an angel, he didn’t play tricks, of course. Although, angels weren’t supposed to tempt and somehow Aziraphale had expertly tempted him into this meal; he had a thing or two to learn from him, it seemed. 

Crowley hesitantly took the one closest to him between his forefinger and thumb. Oh well - when in Rome. Slowly, he began to lift it to his mouth.

A laugh interrupted him. 

“What?” he choked out. 

He couldn’t believe it! The angel was _laughing_ at him. A full-on, jolly laugh that crinkled the edge of his eyes. It wasn’t intended to be mean, but Crowley turned red anyway. His inexperience must have been plainly obvious. 

“The shell-” Aziraphale just managed to say between fits of giggles. 

He threw the oyster down dramatically, “Well I don’t know, do I!” 

“Of course, Crowley, I’m sorry.” Though he didn’t seem particularly remorseful. He took one and walked through the process of opening it up, loosening the meat from the shell, and throwing some kind of sauce on top. He handed the finished product to Crowley and mimed tipping his head back as if drinking. Crowley mimicked. 

Aziraphale prepared his own, though not focusing his whole attention on it, mumbling another “Salutaria.” His eyes examined Crowley as he gulped strongly, smacking his lips. Aziraphale held an oyster in his hand, but didn’t down it immediately. 

“Thoughts?” he asked cautiously.

Crowley paused, “It’s… nice.”

Aziraphale tilted his head back in a practiced movement; his eyes fell shut as he savoured the taste blissfully, “It is nice, isn’t it?”

He looked proud as Crowley reached for another and another and another.

They paired the oysters with some drinks, of course. Both of them had discovered the pleasures of alcohol independently, but found that the bubbly feeling it gave them was multiplied when they had a conversation partner and a stomach full of food. 

“Yup, I’m still a demon. Still a demon,” Crowley said between hiccups, laughing again at Aziraphale’s question.

“Still an angel.”

“That can change, though. Easy as-” Crowley snapped his fingers, accidentally miracling a nearby table’s wine into water, “Whereas I’m stuck. So really, I should be asking you whether you’re still an angel, Mr. Principality Gives-his-flaming-sword-away.”

“I shouldn’t think- That’s not remotely the same as…” Aziraphale began, “You lot made the conscious decision to rebel against Her,” he pointed vaguely skyward, “You- you can’t be doing that. I certainly wouldn’t.”

Crowley looked downcast, “Right, right.”

“When She tells you one thing, and you do another, well, then…” he almost lost track of what he was saying, distracted by pouring another glass of wine, before he pulled himself together again, “Then… you deserve to be punished.”

Crowley rested his head in his hand, “You really think that?”

“Absolutely.”

He squinted at the angel across the table from him, “You _really_ think that?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Alright then.” Crowley shifted his focus back to the table, “But don’t you ever just wonder what the heavens She’s up to?”

Aziraphale shook his head immediately, wrinkling his nose.

“You don’t _ever wonder_? You dooo.”

“I’m afraid that I-”

“You don’t have to admit to it, if you like, but I know you do,” he knew this on an instinctive level, from the moment he met the fussy angel. Aziraphale was no happier in heaven than he was in hell, “I mean, think about it. If She knows everything, then She must have known we were going to rebel the second She made us.”

“Best not to speculate,” Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “As I have told you so many times now, Her plans are ineffaf- Ineffabab-”

“Ineffable?”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale before finishing off his glass and pouring another, “Dear Lord, how much have I drunk?” 

“It all feels like a cruel joke to me. What d’you think of that?”

“What do I-?”

“What if She just made everything for kicks and giggles? I mean, you’ve gotta see that there’s an element of humour in all this, starting all the way back to that apple tree-”

“God does not play games with the universe. You’re speaking-” he leaned closer to whisper, “You’re speaking blasphemy!”

“Did you expect anything less? I'm a demon, remember?”

“Yes, but even so!” 

“Let me have this. I went through the trouble of Falling, after all. What’s the good in that if I can’t blaspheme a little?”

He sat back in his seat, conceding Crowley’s point. 

Crowley, meanwhile, grew more troubled. He rested his head against his hand once again, his eyes boring into the table, “Are you- I mean…” He took a drink.

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Her- God. And… Falling.”

“Well, no.”

Crowley was taken aback, “No?”

“Honestly, no. She has only ever been benevolent and kind. Merciful too and - dear Lord, stop grinning like that.”

“Pfft. Ssorry, I just can’t imagine being that naive.”

“You must know that she was kind to you lot too. Infinitely so.”

Crowley’s face fell immediately, “You call that kindness, I’d hate to see what you call the opposite.”

“What d’you mean? Of course She was kind. A benevolent, loving God leads Her children through tough decisions and lets them know when they wander astray-”

“You didn’t see the rebellion, did you?”

“No, I wasn’t present for it, but-”

Crowley slammed his cup down on the table, “Then you shouldn’t make assumptions about it, should you?”

Aziraphale’s eyes flickered between Crowley’s drink and his twitching mouth. His eyes hidden away from view, “Wha-what was it like?”

“Painful,” he choked out, “Just- painful. It’s… hard to describe to someone who hasn’t gone through it,” he took in a deep breath, “You know how when you look at God, She looks like the brightest thing ever? So indescribably bright that you can barely even comprehend it?”

Aziraphale nodded. 

“Well, imagine that, but with pain. Like in its most concentrated form, just absolutely everywhere. So much that the process of falling out of heaven seemed to last forever. It’s insane how time moves so differently when you’re in pain, innit?”

“Right,” Aziraphale cautiously agreed.

“But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is afterward,” he pointed at Aziraphale, “You see, you’ve got this sort of - sort of warmth inside you.”

“Do I?” he clutched his chest.

“You do. You just don’t notice it until it’s gone. And when it’s left…” he shook his head, “Well, let’s just say it’s a good thing there was no holy water around when we first fell, otherwise, there would be no demons around today. Or perhaps that was a bad thing? Eh, good and bad are both just stupid labels, aren’t they?”

“Holy water? What do you mean?”

“What I mean, angel, is that we all would have offed ourselves, given the chance,” he said quickly, “If there were a drop of holy water anywhere in Hell, we would have crawled through broken glass to get to it, every one of us. That’s how awful it felt at first. I mean, now it’s bearable, but it took a while to get used to.”

“See, She is merciful!” Aziraphale said triumphantly, “She could have struck you down right where you stood or even provided a modicum of holy water for you to do the job yourselves, but instead, She allowed all you wicked demons to live on!” 

“Torturing someone until they’re begging for death, and then denying them that… that’s worse than just killing us outright.” 

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Even so, it’s hardly a mercy,” he refocused his gaze to Aziraphale across the table, “And you know what I did to deserve all that? Guess.”

“You rebelled. You broke the rules.”

“I asked Her why,” Crowley stated simply, “I didn’t ask it rudely, I didn’t do it to be horrible. I just wanted to know, is all.” 

“You-you must have seemed insolent.”

“All I said was, _why am I here?_ ” he shook his head, “That’s it. That’s my rebellion. Now- I ask you. Does that seem fair and kind and loving to you? You ask someone why and then you get thrown out with zero chance of appeal. You get put through the wringer on a metaphysical level. If God calls that a kindness, a mercy, a loving gesture, then I don’t ever want to be associated with Her. I mean, would you?”

“Yes,” he said. Aziraphale shut his eyes tightly then to avoid seeing the pain and turmoil written out on Crowley’s face, all those lies and the story he was spinning for the purposes of leading him away from the heavenly ranks. No matter how convincing it was, it was just a hellish plot from the original tempter himself. Aziraphale continued, “If She thought that is what you deserved, then that is what you deserved. N-no question about it.” 

A moment of silence fell over them. Their differences had come into sharp focus. I mean, it was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Why would an angel and a demon ever get along? Each of them dashed out their hopes that the other one would be any different than all the other celestial beings. And even if what Crowley said was true… that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel. They were on opposite sides.

“Although perhaps…” Aziraphale paused to take a breath before hammering the nail in the coffin, “Perhaps She wasn’t harsh enough.”

Crowley was horrified, “How much harsher can you get?”

“Well, I don’t know, but obviously the punishment hasn’t worked. I invited you out to lunch and you insist on trying to tempt me-”

“You’re the one who brought up tempting in the first place-”

“You must know that I am an angel. I will not fall to your tricks like some-” he nearly choked, “Like some stupid human.”

“Alright, this was a mistake,” Crowley threw down a few coins, scrambling to stand up from the table. 

“I agree. Goodbye Crawly.”

The two of them quickly sobered up and went their separate ways. 

Crowley never broached the subject afterward. Later on he would say that he had sauntered vaguely downwards. That he had hung around with the wrong people. That Hell had just seemed a bit more inviting than Heaven one particular day. But from then on, Aziraphale always knew what Crowley had gone through during his fall.


End file.
